It isn’t the wind in your hair,
Or the excitement of adventure,
Or the tingle of rebellion,
Or even the first thrills of adulthood
That puts you in that sweet high.
It is the blank feeling
Of a one-eighty night
Spotted with stars and embellished with the moon,
And the prospect of content friendship,
Of living under the sky,
Of spending a soul-defining moment
With the people who know you too well.
For one moment, like they say,
We will be boundless.
-A (@firstdraftpoet on twitter)